


like nothing in the world's ever still

by 2manyboys



Series: where the acres grow [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2manyboys/pseuds/2manyboys
Summary: Joe cashes in on his rain check.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: where the acres grow [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1846651
Comments: 54
Kudos: 531





	like nothing in the world's ever still

**Author's Note:**

> This is an epilogue but I won’t tell you your business. Title from The Dreamer by The Tallest Man On Earth.

The sun is setting, they’re lazing in bed. Nicky is reading a book borrowed from the B&B’s little library and Joe is sketching their terrible room in his notebook because he wants to immortalize it somehow. He has his head in Nicky’s lap, pushing up into his fingers because nobody in the world gives a scalp massage like his Nicolò. Joe loves his hands, and everything they do.

It’s their last night in Massachusetts, though it seems like they may not be going very far for their next mission. Joe tried to argue that if Booker can get himself into trouble he can damn well get himself out of it, but, well, they all know how that’s gone the last hundred times, all the way back to his hanging in 1812. No, Joe isn’t going to let it go.

Tonight, at least, he’s not going to think about it. He’s going to see if Nicky is still interested in making him think about absolutely nothing at all. 

“Joe.” Nicky says, getting his attention, clearing his throat, and reading aloud: “I deprecate violence. My part is to heal rather than to kill; or at least to kill with kindly intent.”

“What is that?”

“ _Master and Commander_.”

“Mm, must be a doctor. Always so superior.”

“Good guess. They pair surgery with a naval battle later, it’s pretty good.” 

“You’ve read it before?”

“I think so. Sometimes things are better the second time around.”

“Oh? Like what?” Joe asks, his tone of voice shifting seamlessly into flirtation. It’s not his best line, but he’s distracted by the scrape of Nicky’s fingernails, the warmth of his skin. 

“Many things.” Nicky replies, giving him nothing but the soft sound of pages turning.

“Pleasurable things?”

“A pleasurable thing can be painful if it happens twice, too soon.” Nicky says, dry. Joe’s too busy thinking about what _that_ could mean to answer his challenge for a minute. 

“And the reverse?”

“What are you trying to ask me, Joe?” Nick asks. His voice is soft but not enough to lessen the blow of his hand leaving Joe’s hair. 

“I don’t know.” Joe says, coy.

“Yes you do.” Nicky says, seeing right through him as always. “I know you will say that flirting with me is one of the great joys of your long life and that you pride yourself on the skill. I won’t argue with that. Of the two of us you are always going to be the better orator.”

“Nicky, which one of us talked down a half dozen armed guards the other day? I wasn’t there to see it but-“ Joe starts to argue, but Nicky is shifting away, setting his book aside. 

“Ask me.” Nicky says, easing Joe’s head out of his lap and climbing over him, “You have nothing to fear.”

“I’m not afraid.” Joe says, even though he can feel Nicky’s teeth at his neck. 

“No?” Nicky asks, taking Joe’s sketchbook away, setting it aside carefully.

“No, you’re right.” Joe says, throwing his hands up in surrender, wrists flat against the mattress, “I know you’ll give it to me.”

Nicky laughs. He sits up and sweeps his hands down Joe’s sides, making him shiver and stretch. “Give you what, my ‘lovely mouth’?” They both know he’s quoting Joe directly, bringing up their former conversation in the shower.

“Yes.” Joe breathes.

“Yes, that’s what you want?” Nick asks, pressing him, watching. His eyes are so green this close, so beautiful.

“Please, Nicky.” He says. Nicky kisses him, so sweet.

Joe watches Nicky’s hands as they unbutton his shirt and push it out of the way to continue turning him to putty. He watches Nicky’s hands pull his own shirt off and throw it somewhere. Nicky’s hands undo the button on his jeans, the zipper. They grasp at his belt loops and urge him to turn over. Between the warmth of Nicky’s thighs Joe hesitates only because he wants to keep watching Nicky’s hands, but turns before he has to admit to that.

On his stomach he feels Nicky tug at his jeans and then stop, cursing, saying, “Wait, wait, sorry habibi, I need to lock the door, maybe put the sign out?”

“Just lock it and get back here!” Joe says, laughing, using the interruption to take his shirt off the rest of the way, awkwardly since he doesn’t want to sit up or roll back over. He wants to stay where Nicky left him. 

Nicky seems to appreciate it. He climbs back onto the bed and straddles Joe’s thighs, spending a minute rubbing his shoulders and kissing down along his spine, like he’s distracted now that it’s bare. When he gets to Joe’s waistband he tugs at his jeans again, and Joe is only too happy to cooperate but can’t exactly get onto his knees while Nicky’s sitting on him.

Nicky figures this out for himself and makes a small sound of dissatisfaction that has Joe grinning stupidly. He moves back, pulling Joe’s hips up as he goes, making Joe walk back a little on his elbows. He collapses back towards the bed head first, making needy sounds, as Nicky tugs his jeans down over his ass. He doesn’t seem like he’s interested in getting them all the way off at first, but then he can’t spread Joe’s legs the way he wants, so he makes that grumpy noise again and climbs all the way off the bed to do it.

Joe laughs, helpless not to, and repositions himself higher on the bed after his jeans and underwear are dragged off of him, so there’s more room for Nicky behind him. He’s grinding idly against the covers, wondering if they shouldn’t have taken the time to remove those too, when Nicky’s weight makes the mattress shift again. 

“You’d think by now we’d have some of the logistics of this worked out.” Joe says, peering back at him. He’s naked now too, done with clothes completely it seems. Joe appreciates that very much.

“I don't want a game plan here.” Nicky grumbles, and Joe stops arguing because Nicky’s hands are moving him where Nicky wants him, spreading his knees, putting his ass on display. 

The thing is though, Nicky already made the game plan in the shower the other day, they both know it. That’s what has him relaxing his muscles and pushing back into those hands, knowing Nicky’s mouth is soon to follow. 

When they do this, which isn’t as often as either of them would like because they need the right mix of privacy and safety, Nicky worships his ass like it might be the last time, doing everything he knows pushes Joe directly into a state of desperation. Joe gets loud and Nicky seems to feed off of the choked off and muffled noises he makes. 

His mouth is lovely and he isn’t shy about using it. The first time he spits makes Joe shout, an audible, “Ah!” that melts into a groan he buries into a hastily grabbed pillow as Nicky rubs at him with his nose, his tongue. The first time he hums, Joe desperately tries to remember where his hands are so he can get one down around his cock immediately. Nicky’s breath is hot before he moves back, teasing Joe with his fingers instead.

Joe barely manages to catch his breath to say, “I see now that you were foreshadowing. You mean to kill me with kindly intent.”

“I wouldn't call it kindly.” Nicky says. He seems to take Joe’s coherence as a challenge, taking his ass in both hands and licking at him hard now. It feels incredible. 

Joe does collapse a little into the bed, trying to push back into Nicky’s rhythm, but he still says, “No? Ah, _fuck_ , Nicky. What would you call it?“

“Passionate? Amorous?” Nicky suggests, playing along or catching his breath. 

“Too French.” Joe says. His voice comes out like he’s being chased. 

“Erotic?” Nicky tries again, back to teasing.

“That’s _more_ French, Nicky come on-“ Joe begs, moaning when Nicky puts his mouth back where he wants it. 

He’s almost completely lost the thread of their conversation, huffing out barely audible “Yeah”s and “Nicky”s, thrusting into his own hand, wondering if maybe he wants to come like this, when Nicky pulls away again to say, “Wanton?” 

“You know what, keep going, please. I’ve always wanted to be rimmed by a thesaurus.” Joe says, at the end of his rope, feeling the pure need recede a little. 

“Loving.” Nicky settles on, whispering it again into Joe’s skin. “I intend to love you.”

“To death.” Joe reminds him. It’s supposed to be a joke, a return to the source text, but it lands wrong, like he accidentally capitalized the D. For them death is commonplace, but Death will only come once. He doesn’t mean to ask Nicky for a vow. He’s had plenty of those. 

Nicky doesn’t feel the need to give him one, at least not verbally. He sits up, kisses Joe’s spine, kneads his thumbs into the divots just above his ass, and says, “Where’s the lube?” 

Joe can only point vaguely in the direction of the bathroom. If this is how Nicky wants to prove it to him he’s not going to complain.

He’s not going to be patient about it either. By the time Nicky’s back with the lube Joe has his face buried in the pillows, one hand rubbing Nicky’s spit into his ass, the other fisting his cock. Nicky grabs Joe’s hips and pulls him back to the edge of the bed, taking charge in the best way, and kneels behind him. He bats Joe’s hands away, replacing them with his own. Joe just rubs his face into the bed and groans.

Nicky works him open patiently, practiced, with his lovely mouth and his wonderful hands. Joe mainly tries to stay quiet. It takes Nicky drawing his fingers out and standing up for Joe to give up, he curses Nicky out in his native language, using some words only he and Nicky say anymore. 

Nicky just laughs and asks him if he’s ready. The look Joe shoots him over his shoulder is furious but doesn’t last long, he gets too distracted by watching Nicky stroking himself. Nicky seems to like watching Joe watch him, he shifts his stance and thrusts into his fist. His hand is slick, the head of his cock shiny and red as it slides forward. Joe thinks he might be drooling.

“Babe, my love, my _most_ beloved, I don't think I could get up right now if I wanted to, but-“

“Yes, yes, I’m going to fuck you.” Nicky brushes off the build up to whatever Joe’s threat was going to be and steps forward. Joe gives himself permission to largely collapse and let Nicky handle it, one of his favorite things to do regardless of context. Nicky’s hands stroke his ass and thighs, soothing, as he presses inside. 

Nicky knows not to go easy on him once he’s adjusted. He thrusts forward with enough force that the enormous wooden bed frame knocks against the wall, just once. Joe groans louder than the noise of it, burying his face into the mattress a beat too late. He knows what’s going to happen now, Nicky would never risk making their actions so explicitly obvious to everyone else in the house. 

Nicky laughs. “Should I -?”

“Don’t you dare. You finally-“

“Either we move, or-“

“Nicky. Please. _Please._ Nobody cares. They know we are- they’ll leave if it-“

“Selfish, Joe. Thinking only of your pleasure.”

“And yours.”

“Which you also consider your own, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’ve caught me.”

Nicky hums his agreement, proving it with another hard thrust. The headboard still thunks against the wall. Nicky stops again, apparently willing to wait him out. Joe digs his fingers into the sheet on either side of his head and thinks about screaming. He has to take a moment to breathe around the loud demands of his body, which does not want to give an inch of Nicky up now that he’s finally got him. 

“Alright.” Joe concedes, “Fine, we’re doing this on the floor.”

“We are?” Nicky asks, amused but already acquiescing, slowly pulling out. 

“Why did God give you to me if he didn’t intend for me to-“ Joe is absolutely whining, grateful for the strength of Nicky’s arms as they help him off the bed and down onto the floor on shaky legs. He can feel lube dripping out of his ass and he’s stupidly annoyed about it on top of everything else.

“Get rug burn?” Nicky asks, amusement only growing. He abandons Joe for a moment, walking into the bathroom to grab a towel with as much dignity as he can manage in the moment. 

“-to _have_ you!” Joe says, loud enough that Nicky shushes him, through giggles. 

“Right now, a thousand years later?” Nicky asks, arranging the towel under Joe. Their unspoken agreement to round up the time they’ve spent together usually delights him but right now he’s pure impatience.

“Yes!” Joe insists. He presses his forehead down onto his forearms and slides his knees apart, stretching his ass back in Nicky’s direction, shameless. 

“You'll have me.” Nicky promises, already lining back up, “If you can be quieter than the bed.”

Joe doesn’t mean to be quiet, he means to be contrary and vocal, to do what Nicky wanted and _ask_ for it, over and over. There’s something about the way they effortlessly find their rhythm, something about Nicky’s hands on him, the way Nicky sounds overwhelmed every time he gasps Joe’s name, that has him focused mainly on trying to keep breathing and not cry with how good it all is, the gift of this moment. Then Nicky gets a hand on him and all of a sudden he’s right on the edge.

“Nicky.” Joe warns.

“Do not tell me now you want to wait.” Nicky says, already letting go, putting his hand back on Joe’s hip instead. 

“I don’t. I just need-“

“Ask me Joe, and it’s yours.”

“Your mouth, please, Nicky, kiss me.”

It’s not a good angle, it doesn’t have to be. It’s still a good kiss because it’s Nicky kissing him. Next time, Joe has already decided they're gonna do this face to face. 

He drops his head back down and Nicky keeps fucking him like he’s happy to wait on Joe all night. Joe knows better, can see through him too. Sometimes he just wants the challenge. 

“Gonna make me come, Nicky?” Joe asks, and that’s a line that probably shouldn’t work, by sheer repetition alone, but it does. Their rhythm falters and Nicky gets a little more rough, a little less concerned about the noise. “Want you to, want to come all over the towel you brought over here. You knew I would, didn’t you? You didn’t want it on the floor.”

“Yes, yes, keep talking.” Nicky insists, speeding up, hitting Joe at just the right angle that makes it hard to do what he says. 

“Wish I would still be sore on the train tomorrow, gonna think about you in me the whole time anyway, won’t be able to help it.” 

“Joe, I -“

“Your mouth Nicky, so good. Fuck. Give me your hand again?”

Nicky does, immediately. His grip is just this side of too dry but as much as Joe almost wishes for lube or spit to ease it, the drag of Nicky’s sword callouses is so familiar it aches. 

“Fuck. Yes, Nicky, I’m gonna-“Joe cuts himself off, groaning, shooting across the towel. Nicky works him through it until he loses the coordination, snapping his hips hard into Joe, chasing release. He lets out a soft broken “Ah!” sound when he finds it, shoving deeper, holding there with bruising grip. Joe clenches around him at the feeling, the pure static pleasure of it echoes all down his legs and makes his toes curl. 

The moment draws out and snaps, until all he can hear is their hard breathing and all he can feel is one of the hearts beating, or maybe both, everywhere Nicky is touching him. All his muscles feel like jelly. He wants Nicky to kiss him again but doesn’t want to have to lift his head for it.

“All good?” Nicky asks, maybe not in English, Joe’s brain is too floaty to give him anything but the meaning of the words. 

“So good.” He replies, feeling Nicky’s smile against his shoulder blade when he kisses him. He’s not happy about the feeling of Nicky pulling out but forgives him when he cleans them both up hastily with the towel. 

Joe’s a little fuzzy on the details of getting back into bed but he’s glad to find himself there, under the covers, being kissed by Nicky. Nicky tastes like toothpaste, he must have detoured in the bathroom longer than just to toss the towel in there. Joe’s warm all over, like Nicky’s attention is sunshine. He likes when Nicky’s face is pink from the scratch of his beard, tells him by stroking the back of his fingers against that color, soft. 

Nicky turns in his arms, settling comfortably the way they’ve always fit together. 

“Think you can sleep tonight?”

“This isn’t already a dream?”

“I love you too.”


End file.
